Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Things I Love

Nope, it's not Valentine's Day. That day has come and gone. (Thank goodness. I think it's the dumbest "holiday" ever.) What has yet to pass, though? Winter. I hate winter. It makes me miserable. Which reminds me. These days everything seems to make me miserable. Everything. I hate school. My house is a disaster. My life is a disaster. I have no energy. I have no money. I'm not getting enough sleep. I'm getting older.I know life is not really all that bad. And I have much I should be grateful for. I just can't seem to find my happy thoughts. No matter how hard I look. I wake up every morning feeling miserable and go to bed every night even more miserable. I'm grouchy. I am a total affliction to live with. {Or hang out with. Or talk on the phone with.} And I hate it. I have been blessed with much. I know this. But lately all I seem to be able to focus on is the negative. In every silver lining, I seem to only see the touch of gray. It doesn't suit me, this funk. And I'm pretty sure it's bad for the complexion. And maybe even the digestive system, who knows? {I'd do some two-sample hypothesis t-tests to find out, but that would only serve to remind me how much I hate statistics. And make me even more miserable. So you'll just have to take my word for it.}So today I am choosing to think about the things I love. There are many, many things that I love. Short check-out lines, brand new razors, indoor plumbing, good parking spots, fluffy pillows, cheese, John Cusack movies. The list goes on and on. But I am going to focus on just 5 things that I love. Mostly as a reminder to myself that no matter how gross my kitchen floor is, or how much laundry and homework await me like a hulking mass of living nightmare, or how often I feel entirely inadequate, there will always be things I love to even out the balance.#1. Parking in the GarageSince November of 2013 when I decided to do a last-minute, week-before-Thanksgiving, extreme basement makeover my garage has been a disaster. It has been the storage place for all things dangerous and homeless. Like ripped out baseboards with nails sticking out of them. {Cuz, you know, surely they'll be useful for something someday.} Or old Halloween costumes that will never again fit my now much larger {and much pickier} children. Or 17 tons of thrift store donations, yet to be donated. Camping supplies, painting supplies, craft supplies. I could go on, but you get the picture. Suffice it to say, for over a year I was unable to use my garage for what it was designed for. {Contrary to what my children believe, it was actually made to park in. Not to get everything out from every box you can find and leave it on the ground somewhere.} I also was only able to open my garage under cover of darkest night. Lest my neighbors with their garages-cleaner-than-my-house see what a nasty pig I really am. But last September, I knew that I had to clean my garage out. Because if I had to go another winter without parking in it, I might die. And I did clean it. And I do park in it. And it is delightful. And it made coming home from Arizona on Sunday night a little more bearable. Because I had just come from 80 degree weather and was wearing flip-flops. And there was a blanket of snow outside that I would've had to walk through if I hadn't been able to park in the garage.#2. SleepI mentioned that I don't get enough of it. And it is true. But when I get any sleep at all...it is a beautiful thing. I love sleeping. It might be my favorite. I would rather sleep than do countless other things. When I was young, my parents actually had to wake me and my siblings up on Christmas morning to open our gifts. Cuz they couldn't wait any longer. And we are some sleep-lovin' people. I love crawling into bed after those long days of life and work and late nights of homework and children and just laying there thinking about how I'm going to go to sleep. It's like ordering a steak and just waiting for the server to bring it, all juicy and hot, to the table. Sleep makes my mouth water. And those rare occasions when I don't have to set an alarm for the next morning or I can actually squeeze in a nap?? That, my friend, is a little piece of heaven on earth.You know how your first kiss with someone or the first time you hold their hand makes you feel all fluttery and twitterpated inside? Yep. That's how I feel about sleep. It's giving me butterflies just thinking about it. It's my one true love.#3. PandoraIt's a silly thing to love. But I do. It just gets me. You know? I just say, "Hey, Pandora. I like the Beastie Boys. And Pearl Jam. And Goldfinger. And Rise Against. And Ne-Yo." And it says, "Oh, Cyndie. I know. I know exactly what you like. And I bet you also really like Cypress Hill. And Bush. And Beck. And Autopilot Off. And Usher."I do! I do! How did you know? It's like having my own personal concierge with a British accent. "Madam. I cannot help but to notice that you seem to be enjoying the Weezer. Might I suggest a helping of the Green Day for your listening enjoyment?" Why thank you, Pandora. You really understand me. Granted there's always going to be those Sugar Ray and Smash Mouth moments. And nobody should be subjected to those. But overall, Pandora is all about giving me the music I like.And I used to be angry because no matter WHAT station I put it on, Pandora was always slipping in some Red Hot Chili Peppers. Who I do not like. But now I understand that it's just trying to be funny. Cuz it's our little inside joke. So now I just laugh. And push the thumbs-down button. Again. Silly Pandora. #4. Driving a Small CarI have driven a minivan for almost as long as I can remember. And not to knock it, cuz there's a lot to be said for a good old, faithful family car. One that everyone fits in, one that can take all of us (+1) to wherever we wanna go, one that is so horribly travel worn and dirty that eh, what's another spilled Coke, or bag of Cheetos, or some more smashed Mike & Ikes? But now that my kids are slowly growing older, I don't take them with me to many of the places I go. And driving a minivan, while it has its upsides, makes me feel old and frumpy and mom-ish. And yes, I know, I AM old and frumpy and mom-ish, but that doesn't mean I have to FEEL like that when I drive around. So sometimes, I love to just hop in my little {dented and bruised} 2-door Alero and pretend, just for a minute, that I am not the carpooling, One Direction listening, screaming & raging lunatic mom that I am. Just for a minute.#5. SpandexI know what you're thinking. Blades of Glory. Nope, not that kind of spandex. And I have no desire to be yet another blogger to weigh in on the whole yoga pants/modesty issue. {I couldn't have an opinion about it if I tried. I only know that I have neither the self-confidence, nor the thighs to wear them around town myself.} What I love is just that little bit of spandex that is being integrated into jeans over the last few years. And even into the work pants. {Which are also known as slacks. But I am morally opposed to using that word. Along with blazer, or blouse, or panties.} Just that little bit of forgiving stretch that makes all the difference between simply wanting to put on sweat pants when I get home to absolutely needing to or I might die.I have discovered a sweet spot right around 3-7% of spandex that I like in all of my pants. Anything less than 3% and I have to unbutton them when I go to the movies. Anything more than 7% and ... well, it's just a little more disclosure than I am comfortable making.It's a wonderful gift the clothing industry has given to us moms. And so much cooler than an elastic waist. It almost makes up for crop tops. Almost.These are but a few of the things I love. Of course there is also my kids, my friends, the beach, Target, dryer sheets, crushed ice, being right, and having a tan...amongst many other things. But maybe this will start me off on the right foot. And instead of feeling so miserable all the time, I can focus on the things I love. Like pulling my Alero into the garage while listening to Pandora and wearing stretchy jeans. And thinking about that magical time when I get to go to bed.